Warsworn (4 page)

Read Warsworn Online

Authors: Elizabeth Vaughan

His smile grew. "None, Warprize. Shall I carry you? It's not far."

"I can walk." I started to slide from my perch but Keir put his hands on my waist and slowly lowered me to the ground. The gesture by itself was not a suggestive one, but my face grew hot at its implication as he placed me gently on my feet.

Keir chuckled slightly, and took my hand. "Come, shy one."

My feet were still a bit tender, but I could walk in the soft slippers that Marcus had provided.

Keir led me through the bushes, keeping the lower branches off me with his strong arm. Birds twittered and protested, taking flight as we worked our way through the growth. We emerged on the shore of a small pond, surrounded on all sides by thick, yellow alders. A blanket had been laid to the side, with bundles piled next to it. I had that brief glimpse before Keir swept me off my feet. "Perhaps the shy Warprize would enjoy a bit of seclusion, for a bath and a meal with her Warlord."

"What? No guards? Just us?"

"Oh, there are guards." He placed me on the blanket and started to divest himself of his swords and daggers. "Beyond the alders, out of sight. I can raise them with a shout, if I need to." He placed his weapons on the corner of the blanket, close at hand in case of need. "Iften is my Second. Yers is my Third. The army will be safe with them for a time. I have something more important to do."

The blanket was soft beneath me, cushioned underneath with grasses. I lay back, and watched as he removed the stiff leather armor, stripping down the under-padding, leaving him in only his trous. My breath quickened as I watched him, and he knew it too, if the occasional flash of his blue eyes in my direction was any indication.

With wonderful grace he settled on the blanket next to me. "Oh?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

"And what important task would that be?"

He gave me a knowing smile, and leaned closer, reaching out to pull me in to his body. I yielded willingly, loving the feeling of being wrapped in his strength. Ken-nuzzled my ear, and whispered softly. "One that requires my complete attention."

His free hand worked its way under my tunic to stroke my waist. I caught my breath at his touch, shivering with need and anticipation. The alders danced over his head, the pattern of shadow and light all around us. Somehow all my miseries disappeared when I was in his arms. It all seemed clearer, easier. Perfect.

Keir moved his hands up my back, claiming a soft, warm kiss that went on and on. He sat us up, and it was only when my breastband was pulled over my head that I realized he'd left me with naught but my trous. I shivered, and Keir wrapped me in his arms again, easing me back down on the blanket, and I welcomed him into my arms, letting my hands explore those broad shoulders.

His skin was spicy and warm, and I nuzzled him behind his ear as his hands gently stroked my shoulders, stopping to hover over my upper arm. I pulled back and watched as his fingers traced the two pale scars that lay there. His voice was a soft rumble in my ear. "These are well?"

"Yes." The scars were from an attack that had come at my brother's behest. They would fade in time, but the memory would take longer for both of us. Mine, for the fear of the moment, Keir's for the guilt he felt, that I'd been hurt. I reached up to stroke his face, letting my fingers run through his hair.

"And your feet?"

"They're fine." I gave him a look as his fingers drifted down to the waist of my trous. "If we're to bathe, Warlord, why are we lying on this blanket?"

He tilted his head, smirking slightly. "Well, we need to get dirty first, don't we?"

I laughed. "Dirty?"

His hands moved again, burning the skin of my breast with his touch. "Perhaps 'sticky' is a better word?" He grinned at me then, his entire face lighting up.

I smiled back, pulled his head down, and kissed him. He responded, and within moments the alders, the sun, and the world around us melted away. All of my senses were wrapped in him, focused on the feel of his skin against mine.

His fingers drifted back down, under my trous to stroke the curve of my hip. I moved my hands to trail them up over his arm to rest on his shoulder. His eyes were half-closed and he nuzzled my neck, leaving soft kisses along my throat, down to the juncture of my breasts. His tongue traced the under curve, taking my very breath.

"Keir," I whispered, afraid to say more, wanting him to continue. As swift as I could wish, our trous were gone, and his legs were entangled with mine. I ran my foot up his leg, scraping the skin with my toenails. He groaned, then caught my leg in his large hand, pulling it up and over his thigh. But still he teased, denying me the contact I craved.

Instead, he moved his hand to stroke me deep within, responding to my movements and cries to insure my joy. I'd heard tales, of course, of men who took their pleasure and gave nothing in return. But to my lover, my bliss was as important as his own. Goddess knew, Keir was adept, and I tried not to think about how he'd learned those skills. Each time we loved, he proved that the hands that wielded a deadly blade could dance over my body, leaving me breathless and ready for more. This time was no different, as I cried out, grabbing at his arms as I exploded into pure pleasure.

As I returned to sanity, he rolled onto his back, taking me with him, sprawled over his body like a blanket. Now it was my turn, to touch and to tease, using his teachings against him. He let me explore with a will, allowed and encouraged my tentative touches. I knew the male body as a healer, but it was an entirely different thing to watch it respond as a lover. I tried to return the courtesy, letting his moans and movements lead me to bolder and stronger actions. My savage Warlord gasped and trembled beneath me, and that trust wrapped around my heart.

So we loved, under the shelter of the alders, skin sun-touched and shadow-dappled. And when Keir came into me, it was more than our physical bodies joining. It was our hearts and minds caught in a precious moment of shared passion. For an instant, Keir and I were one with each other and the elements that surrounded us, filled with light and joy. It left us gasping for breath, clinging to one another, and, well… sticky.

The sun moved quite a bit before we actually entered the water. Keir extended a hand to help me walk barefoot into the pond. The water was cold at first, but it warmed as we went deeper, to stand in water up to our waists.

Keir dived in, disappearing from view. I waited to see where he would surface, but I didn't see him come up. Just as I grew concerned, I felt something grasp my ankle. Before I could cry out, Keir surfaced before me, laughing and breathless.

"Keir!" I exclaimed, wiping the water from my face, laughing in spite of myself.

He chuckled, and strode back to the shore, returning to hand me one of the precious bars of vanilla scented soap. I thanked him, and started to lather my hands.

Keir moved closer, water streaming down his body. "Let me help you with that."

I cast him a sly glance. "Seems only fair, since you're the one that got me sticky." He reached for me, but I pulled back. "But if you help me, we will never get out of the water."

He quirked his mouth. "I fail to see the problem, Warprize."

I laughed, and he caught me, kissing me soundly. I let my soapy hands trail over his chest. He took the soap, and soon we were laughing breathlessly as we teased each other both above and below the water.

Finally, he growled low, and pulled me toward him for a hard kiss. "Know what is even better than this, Lara?"

I kissed his nose. "What?"

"Food." He released me and headed for the shore, looking back over his shoulder with a wicked grin as I laughed.

I plunged deep into the cool water determined to get every inch of my skin and hair squeaky clean. Bathing from a bucket in a tiny tent is no easy task. Of course, the Firelanders all just jumped nude in the water, any water they could find, every chance they got, and washed each other. Maybe if I bathed under the bells? I broke the surface of the water, laughing at the idea of waterlogged bells.

Even as I washed my hair, I cast several glances Keir's way. Firelanders have no real understanding of modesty, and while it embarrasses me, there are times when I can appreciate its benefits. Keir was letting the sun dry his skin, not bothering to dress. The light through the leaves played over his strong back, and distracted me from my chore. I watched as he dug parcels out of the saddle bags, and laid them on the blanket. I returned to the task of rinsing my unruly locks. I didn't really pay any attention to what he was doing until I got a whiff of a familiar odor.

I was twisting my hair, trying to wring as much water out as possible. "Keir? Do I smell bread?"

"Come and see," he called. He was standing by the shore, with a spare blanket and drying cloth. I splashed through the water to the bank, shivering in the air that now felt cold. He wrapped me in the blanket, stole a quick kiss, and then carried me over to the 'nest' he had prepared.

"It is bread," I breathed, as I settled on the blanket. I took the drying cloth and wrapped it around my hair. "Where in—"

"Sal was buying stock for supplies, and the farmer's wife asked if you were with us." Keir reached for the loaf of bread and tore off a piece. "Apparently she was worried that you weren't being fed properly." He handed me the piece of bread, and a small crock of butter. My mouth watered, and I took the offered knife, and smeared the bread thick with butter and took a bite. I closed my eyes and chewed. The familiar food filled my mouth, and my senses with the taste of home.

"There's more."

My eyes popped open to see a baked chicken, bright apples, and a sweating jug. I grinned at Keir, and tore a leg off the chicken. Keir grabbed for the other one.

For many moments, we just ate, licking fingers and sharing the jug. Keir used his dagger to cut apples into crisp slices. They crunched in my mouth, tangy and sweet. The ale was light, cold and bitter. It didn't take us long to strip the carcass to the bones, and consume every bit of the meal.

I gave a great sigh of contentment as I padded to the edge of the water to wash my hands. I returned to the blanket, and dug through my bag to find my comb and a small bottle of vanilla scented oil. Combing the oil through my thick hair would help with the tangles. Ken-tossed the carcass off into the bushes, along with the apple cores. There wasn't a bit left of the bread, or the butter. He washed his hands in the water, and returned to pull fresh trous from the bags. I knew that was more for my comfort than for his.

He rejoined me on the blanket, and lay back on one elbow to watch as I combed my hair. It was still damp, and I took my time working through the snarls. The light was still filtering through the leaves, but there was less of a breeze. The miseries of a few hours ago suddenly didn't seem so important. I smiled at my fears. Amazing what a real bath and a good meal can do for your spirits.

"Marcus told me that you spoke to Joden under the bells. All is not well with you, Lara."

I didn't look at him. "I'm fine. I just had some questions—"

"Look at me." Keir's voice was firm, and I obeyed, slightly resentful of his order.

"This has been hard on you." His voice was quiet, and he gave me an intent look. "Marcus has told me that you are trying to cope as best you can." Keir rolled his eyes. "I got an earful about the abuse I am putting you through."

I smiled, knowing very well the sharp edge of Marcus's tongue. "You're not abusing me. I'm doing fine."

"I'm sorry for this." Keir shifted to lay flat on the blanket, his hands on his chest. "I'd slow our pace, but I can't. We need to arrive at the Heart of the Plains as soon as possible."

"Joden tried to explain, but I'm not sure I understand."

Keir turned his head to look at me with his blue eyes. "I sent messengers to the Elders at the Heart of the Plains the very night I claimed you. They will have sent messengers of their own, summoning the other elders and warrior-priests. The ceremony will start when we arrive, under the open skies for all to see. If we hurry, the ceremony will be held before all can make the journey. There are some I would prefer to avoid."

"Can they deny my confirmation?" I leaned forward a bit, and the blanket that I had wrapped around me dropped slightly.

Keir's eyes fixed on me, but not on my face. "I don't want to talk about the future, Lara." His eyes grew sultry, and his voice roughened. "I don't want to talk at all." He rolled back on to his side, and reached over to tug on my blanket. "I'd rather talk about the way the sun is dancing on your skin. How you smell like vanilla. How the light is being caught in your hair, and kept prisoner."

I flushed up, put the comb down and moved toward him, letting him pull the blanket away from my body. His eyes were half-closed as he pulled me in close, wrapping me in his arms. He nuzzled my neck, and his hand drifted down to my buttock. "Too long apart, Lara. I've missed your touch, your heat, your—"

I opened my mouth in a jaw-cracking yawn.

Keir pulled back, looking into my eyes. I blinked at him, my vision suddenly blurry and tired.

He shook his head, and then pulled me down to lay next to him, my head on his shoulder.

"Sleep, Lara."

"Keir, let's not waste this haven. I can sleep late—" Another yawn cut me off.

"But you won't, and haven't, have you?" He stroked my back, rubbing circles softly on my skin. "Put your head down, and close your eyes, Lara. I'll be here, watching over you."

I yawned again, the warmth of his body and my full stomach defeating me. Keir chuckled as I relaxed, and I felt him pull the blanket up over us, even as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the odd feeling of something tugging my hair. Keir had spooned up behind me, and his arm was draped over my hip. The odd feeling was a robber jay, tugging on one of my curls that were spread over the blanket. I'd heard of them from my father, large grey birds that feared no one and nothing, and that stole whatever they could get their hands on. The bird tilted his head, looking at me, then jabbed at my curl again, trying to pull it away.

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